Steve?
by lovova
Summary: It must be odd, to be Steve?. - Oneshot


Steve?

By Lovova

Oneshot

**oOo**

There is no 'beginning', n-not that I can remember, anyway. It's just...It's just I began. I guess you could say that one minute there was nothing, and the next I was a full grown man standing in a field all by myself. But that's not entirely accurate. Cause there was no 'nothing' in the beginning. I don't remember darkness, or sleeping, or the process of being born. Just...standing there. Full and complete. No nothing, no beginning, just being. And I suppose that this wouldn't be so bad, if...if I didn't know inherently that this is not how that's supposed to go. No one's ever told me, and I've never seen one, but I know what a child is. I know that I should have been one at some point. Can I just not remember it? Or...is there something wrong with me?

My name is Steve?. That wasn't a question.

I know other things too. I know the name of the sun, and the earth, and the animals both friendly and unkind. No one told me these things. There's no one around to tell me these things. There should be other people. Where are the other people?

I know when the sun goes down I'm going to be in trouble.

I punched a tree and it fell apart. I punched the ground and the same thing happened. I put the pieces...somewhere...somewhere I could get them easily, and hold always. This is...correct, yes? That is how the world...works? This is physics? It's what I've seen with my own two eyes, and no one has ever told me otherwise.

My steps become uncertain, and I look down. I have accidentally started walking on water. I wonder if I punch it, will it break apart into smaller pieces of itself, that I can pick up and store away? I start laughing because the idea seems ridiculous, but I don't dare try it in case it works. If it worked, I don't think I'd be able to make my oncoming hysteria go away.

Nothing feels right.

**o**

My house is incredibly small, made of wood and dirt, but it's mine and I feel safe in it. There is one little lantern inside it, and room for nothing else but me. I don't have the material for a bed. I know how to make one though. I wonder how I learned that?

I hear moaning outside, and my hair stands on end as my heart starts to race. I glance out the small window of my door, and see zombies stumbling about, apparently aimlessly. Zombies are dead people. People. For one irrational moment I want to call out to them. They used to be like me, right? Would any of them have known me? Could any of those poor, lifeless squares be my brother, my father, my friends?

Then I hear a hissing sound and move away from my door, curled up into the corner of my tiny house, trying not to breath too loud.

I cannot sleep.

**o**

In the morning, I go outside while the creatures are still burning, screaming and running, not noticing me as they died one by one. Once they were gone, I looked at my little house and felt a sudden hatred for it. I didn't want to be here. I did not want to live here, all alone, in this land full of monsters and physics that should not work, with no history or memory to comfort me during what I was sure would be many long nights ahead. I did not want to make a home; I wanted to go home. Certainly there were others, right? Certainly I came from somewhere. Perhaps, just over that mountain, or through those woods, or across that lake, there was a whole village full of people with question marks at the end of their names. Certainly I wasn't all alone in Mincraftia!

...Right?

**o**

I have been walking for days. Or has it been minutes? Time is difficult to tell here, but I know it has been awhile, and I have made great progress. Well, progress in distance, anyway. I have yet to meet anyone in my journey, and while the landscape does change, it is so far all wilderness, no signs of human life. I curse the night, because I keep having to stop and rebuild my small, stupid house, losing precious travel time as I huddle inside it, listening to the creatures outside. The more I hear the creatures, the less fearful I am of them. Instead, I am annoyed by their hindrance, and my thoughts turn to violence. From what I have seen, they are not very fast creatures. Perhaps tomorrow, instead of using my stone to make a house, I will make a sword, and will not stop for nightfall.

**o**

I am...badly hurt.

Am I...am I dying? No...no I am not, but...but perhaps that would be more of a kindness. I am in a hole. As the monsters attacked and my sword eventually broke, oh Notch, I was desperate. They wouldn't stop! With nowhere else to run, all I could think of was digging directly below me, and then using that same dirt to barricade the top.

I have no idea if the sun has risen. I'm afraid to look, less another one of those creepers see me and explodes, my meager shelter no defense against such an attack. I would die. I would die!

But...I can't stay in here forever. Not in this tiny grave. I...I have to look. I must find something to eat, restore my health before nightfall comes again. I have to look.

Oh Notch, help me...

**o**

I found a cow and some pigs. I had no sword, so I beat them to death with my fists. They screamed and tried to run, so I chased them. Caught them.

I had no fire to cook them, but they burst into pieces once I was...done. I ate the pieces. They were still warm.

I don't feel good. I'm afraid. I'm so afraid. Why can't I find anyone? I have walked a long distance. It's funny. I distinctly remember the screams of the animals as they ran for their lives from me, but I cannot remember my own screams as I ran for my life from the monsters. I feel dizzy at the thought, and laugh.

I cannot hear myself laughing. Did I ever hear myself laughing?

I don't laugh anymore.

**o**

I build my house, and I tell myself it's not me giving up. It's just... making a base of operations, a place to return to at night while I can't look for other people. Besides, maybe staying in one spot is a good idea. Maybe I can draw others to me; after all, I must have been someone, at some point, right? Maybe someone I knew is looking for me. Maybe they haven't given up on me either.

To make it easier to find me, maybe I'll make a tower...

**o**

It has been...a long time. I have been busy.

The north wall is almost completely done, but I keep having to go fix the tower shaped like a flower I saw once because for some reason the damn creepers keep coming up to give it a good blowing up. I'm thinking of maybe dropping the whole floral theme I've got going on for something more gothic anyway, or maybe something adventure-themed, like some sort of giant sword, and all the surrounding gates could look like little shields. I suppose I could try both. I appear to have plenty of time on my hands.

Of course I'm still looking for people. On and off. I'm certain I'll find someone, someday. The last place I looked was that great big cavern in that mountainside...which I turned into this very sweet looking garden and waterfall...I should go check on that, it's been a long time since I've built it...a very long time, now that I think of it...no worries, I'll start my search for other human life again today.

Or tomorrow. I still have to repair that damned floral tower, after all.

Or, well, maybe not tomorrow. After the tower is fixed and the north wall is done. And after I check on my garden. And I need to go collect wool from my sheep, which will take time...

It's fine.

I've not given up.

I'll get around to it.

Eventually.

**oOo**

Fin.


End file.
